


touch me baby, tainted love

by liquidblood (honeysparks)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 66 Seals (Supernatural), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Betrayal, Blood Bond, Blood Drinking, Bobby's Panic Room, Demon Blood, Demon Blood Addict Sam Winchester, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Evil Ruby, F/M, Graphic Description, Hallucinations, Mentioned Azazel - Freeform, Mentioned Jessica Moore - Freeform, Mentioned Lilith, Past Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Possessive Behavior, Sam Winchester Detoxing From Demon Blood, Sam Winchester on Demon Blood, Sam Winchester's Demonic Powers, Scared Sam, Sentimental Ruby, Sexual Content, Songfic, Team Free Lucifer (basically lilith and ruby and azazel), Worried Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-16
Updated: 2016-10-16
Packaged: 2018-08-22 17:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8294365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeysparks/pseuds/liquidblood
Summary: The thoughts that run through Sam's mind throughout his blood-drinking days.





	

**Author's Note:**

> songfic based on 'tainted love' by soft cell done for a writing challenge on tumblr,, i hope you enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! as u can see i'm such a hoe for sam/ruby and the dynamics of their relationship ( ◕ ‿ ◕✿)

_"sometimes i feel i've got to_  
_run away i've got to_  
_get away_  
_from the pain that you drive into the heart of me."_

There are times when, after he's drunk his fill of the scarlet liquid he's grown to crave, Sam grabs his jacket and leaves without so much as a parting glance or a proper goodbye to Ruby.

He doesn't think of it as rude, because it's not something they're supposed to be doing in the first place. He doesn't think of it as anything, really, and maybe that's where the problem lies. It wasn't even supposed to carry on for so long; the only reason he'd said yes to taking whatever she had to offer was because she told him that it could save Dean. But she had lied, and Dean had gone to the pit anyway, and Sam was still drinking her blood.

Dean doesn't know, of course. Doesn't know that the only reason why Sam is still alive is because of Ruby- not that he would care. He'd still kill her in cold blood, and it would be justifiable, especially if he knew just how far off the reservation Sam was going because of her. But was it really because of her? There were so many times when Sam could've stopped, could've dealt with the minor withdrawals instead of digging himself a deeper grave to rot in. Maybe he liked the power it gave him.

He'd always been the weaker Winchester brother, hadn't he? The one with the feelings in the way. And it was so freeing, so beautifully sweet to have the kick that the demon blood gave him. It worked like a magical liquor, erasing his inhibitions and every screaming direction his moral compass pointed him in. It made him the predator rather than the prey, and that was something he didn't think he'd ever be ready to let go of, even if it dragged him down until he couldn't breathe.

But sometimes it still becomes a little bit too much, and Sam has to leave to clear his head. The familiarly fiery throb in his veins is a double-edged sword, reminding him of all he's gained, and all he's about to lose if he should continue on the road he's speeding on. He steps on the accelerator and the car drives into oblivion. Sometime after four in the morning, his cellphone rings. It's Ruby, and she wants to know when he wants to meet up to get more practice done. He doesn't reply, and spends the day following omens and killing every demon he finds without even trying to exorcise them with his powers. It doesn't make him feel any less horrible or any less nonhuman.

He considers killing himself for a while, but Dean didn't go to hell just for him to send himself down there, too.

_-_

_"the love we share_  
_seems to go nowhere,_  
_i've lost my lights_  
_i toss and turn, i can't sleep at night."_

Sometimes, when Sam hasn't seen Ruby for more than two weeks at a time, he begins drying out and the cold turkey hits especially hard.

On those nights, he doesn't sleep, and he plays the loudest Def Leppard and Bon Jovi songs as he tosses and turns. It takes everything in him to not think of blood and its metallic taste. Once, he cut into his own vein and tried to have a taste, but it was dull and coppery in comparison to the sparkling manna that Ruby gave him. He yelled in frustration, and broke the lamp on the nightstand beside the motel bed.

He almost always ends up calling Ruby, sounding like a junkie jonesing for another hit. She almost always answers, a smile in her voice like she's been counting down to him breaking and dialling her number. If he's able, he drives to her, but if she's feeling charitable, she shows up at his door less than a minute after he's called. She kisses his emptiness away, removes his doubts and guilts like she does his clothes, and when she pushes him down onto the bed and climbs onto him, lowering her wrist to his lips, she gives him a home in the form of his addiction and a cause to stand behind, even if it's one with a falsely painted sigil and gallons of blood spilt in its name.

Lately, though, his calls are going unanswered, and on the occasion that she decides to fill his thirst, she does it without even a kiss or a caress. The problem isn't that Sam's gotten used to her touch, or that she's something special that he can't replace. It's that as she's beginning to pace his hits further and further away, he's becoming more and more restless and aggressive, and a good, rough fuck is always easier than killing something.

_-_

_"once I ran to you (i ran),_  
_now i'll run from you."_

In the panic room, detoxing from the demon blood in his system, Sam sees things he wouldn't wish upon his worst nightmare.

He sees his mother and Jess, burning and burning and burning; smells their flesh sizzling and sees the drops of fire clinging to their clothing as they scream. He sees his brother in hell,  body parts being pulled apart and sewn grotesquely back together, and every time Sam calls out to him, Dean's monstrous form disappears only to reappear in another part of the room. But worst of all, he sees himself.

Fourteen and with yellow eyes, feeding on demons and humans alike. Eighteen and leaving a trail of bodies behind him, from his father lying dead to his college friends strung up with their organs on display. Twenty-four and leading an army from hell, causing carnage and destruction and raining hellfire on earth. Twenty-five and smiling as Dean is mauled by hellhounds, spraying blood across the room and onto Sam's clothes.

When he gets out of the panic room, he calls Ruby, gasping out a pathetic, "Please," before hanging up. She appears a tormenting five minutes later, and he drinks until she has to push him away because her vessel is losing too much blood and if he keeps going, she'll be forced to smoke out.

In that moment, Sam doesn't care. Let her smoke out if she wants; she can deal with it. He needs to get the demon blood back in his veins before the hallucinations start again. Before the _reminders_ start again.

Let him be unholy. Let him be a freak, let him be an abomination. All those things are bearable compared to being the vessel of the morning star or the boy king Azazel made him to be.

_-_

_"this tainted love you've given,_  
_i give you all a boy could give you,_  
_take my tears and that's not nearly all;_  
_tainted love."_

Sam knows he isn't doing the right thing now, but in the long run, isn't it worth it? He'll kill Lilith and get his revenge for what she did to Dean, the only family he has left. Every time he takes another hit, another taste of the one thing he isn't supposed to have, he feels like he understands why he was chosen to be the vessel of the first fallen angel. Maybe disobedience is his first virtue, before his kind-heartedness and his intelligence.

He's only cried once while drinking Ruby's blood, and he blames it on the fight he'd had with Dean earlier in the day. It had been about what Sam was doing, and had ended in information that he had no way of knowing how to process. (If Dean didn't stop him, the angels would. And they all knew how that would end. Burned out eyes and a life ended too quickly.)

She asks him why he's crying, running her hand through his hair, and he's too strung-out on the high that her blood gives him and the reminder that he's probably about to be killed by a bunch of winged jackasses to answer. He shakes his head, kissing her wrist and watching the cut heal by itself.

"How long more until I can kill her?" Sam hates how his voice shakes out of sadness, and not anger, like it should.

Ruby smirks. "Count the stars, sweetheart. And then ask me again. You're. Not. Ready."

_-_

_"now i know i've got to_  
_run away i've got to_  
_get away;_  
_you don't really want any more from me."_

Exclusivity is a funny thing.

Since he and Ruby stopped fucking, Sam's never really wondered if she's getting off with other people. But one day, as he's heading to the room she's told him to meet her in, he sees her kissing someone else.

Something that isn't quite jealousy and is dangerously close to wrath courses through him. When he's alone in the motel room with Ruby, the first thing he does is push her against the wall and kiss her hard. She makes a surprised sound but goes with it, and he growls that he doesn't want her seeing other people while she's with him.

She scoffs and makes a backhand comment about how adorable it is that he thinks he can control her. Before Sam knows that he's doing, he's got a hand against her throat and a dangerous gleam in his eye. They fuck that night until the bed-frame breaks and Sam's anger dissipates.

"Y'know, not that I'm your personal therapist, or anything," Ruby sighs when they're done, turning to look at him, "But I don't think what just happened was particularly healthy."

Sam's lips are stained red with the blood that was flowing from her wrist a few seconds ago. He raises an eyebrow and sits up to get dressed. "I liked the first part of what you said. The rest... Not so much."

A pillow hits his back, and he finds himself laughing despite the seriousness of the situation. Maybe he's going crazy _._ The thought is strangely comforting, perhaps because it would justify his actions that, as of late, aren't seeming ethical at all.

When they're both dressed, Ruby takes him to a shadowy pub crawling with demons. Sam can tell the difference now, between those of his species and those of Ruby's. He can't see their true faces, but there's something different about the way they move. He exorcises five at one go and kills two for mocking Ruby about her involvement with a Winchester.

Like in the movies, she steps over their bodies and pulls Sam down for a kiss, a smug smirk on her lips that even he can't erase.

"My hero," she says, her voice dripping with honey flavoured sarcasm. "You didn't have to do that, Sam. They were just trying to get to you."

He shrugs, indifferent. "I'd do it again." And as the words leave his mouth, he knows that Dean was right. Sam's too far off the reservation to turn to anything besides Ruby and her blood. And the worst part? He fucking loves it. She's _his_ , and if that means that he's hers, then he is hers.

_-_

_"to make things right,_  
_you need someone to hold you tight."_

When Ruby opens up about her feelings, her _real_ feelings, to Sam, it's the first and last time he has a glimpse at the truth through the pieces of shattered glass she hides behind.

They're holed up in another shitty motel, spending the night together because Sam's rather badly wounded from stupidly hunting a nest of vampires by himself without bothering to tell anyone, not even Dean. He's had his fill of her blood, and it shows: his wounds are beginning to heal itself already. But he's still weak, and if he goes back to Dean, he's definitely going to get a chewing out, and god help him if that's not the last thing he needs right then.

So he stays with Ruby, and at half-past midnight he finds himself tucked under the scratchy covers with Ruby's hand stroking lazily through his hair in a somewhat comforting rhythm. He calls her name and feels like he's eight years old.

"Yes, Sam?" She asks, her voice strained just a little more than usual, and he feels almost guilty for breaking the sacred silence.

"Why are you here? Like... Now, with me in this room? Surely you have a million things more important than this that need to get done."

She smiles, and honey drips through her voice. "If I didn't know you better, I'd think you wanted me to leave," she says softly, her fingertips scratching his scalp, "There are things I have to do, but none of them top this. I remember being a human, and I remember long nights spent with friends, just listening to the sound of our heartbeats until we all fell asleep." She sounds wistful, and it's a long time before she speaks again. "I miss it sometimes."

Sam falls asleep right after that, and he almost hates himself for it, both because she might've continued speaking under the impression that he was listening, and because, dammit, her past was interesting. When he wakes he tries to delve into the topic once more, but Ruby squints at him and brushes it off so well that for a couple of seconds he doubts there was such a conversation in the first place.

_-_

_"you think love is to pray,_  
_i'm sorry i don't pray that way."_

Sam supposes he's never really known what love is. 

While he's seen his friends' parents kiss and smile at each other when he was little, he's never had any personal experience with it, thanks to his mother not being alive and his father constantly away. There was even an entire period of time during which he was convinced that love was going home with someone different nearly every night, courtesy of his older brother. 

He grew older, went to high school and eventually college, all the while paying close attention but never attempting any kind of romance. And then there was Jess. Sam was fairly sure that she was the closest he'd come to a real love. She made him feel warm inside and he could never seem to fully catch his breath around her. She was beautiful, and he never wanted her to leave. 

That was what love was, isn't it? Sam thought he understood it better now. 

It was how he felt about Ruby; or more specifically, Ruby's blood. 

When the realisation had first hit, Sam refused to see Ruby, going without her blood for as long as he could before the withdrawal symptoms hit and he was gritting his teeth and calling her. She'd been furious, and for good reason, but Sam was both too proud and too embarrassed to admit that he'd been too freaked out over the possibility of him being in love with her blood to say anything about it. It didn't matter: Ruby smiled like she knew.

Since then, he's never really had any reason to think about it, but every time he sees a couple holding hands or kissing or even just laughing and walking together, Sam's mind jumps to Ruby. It's been a year since he's even related the word 'love' to anything else, not even Jessica Moore. 

-

 _"don't touch me please,_  
_i cannot stand the way you tease."_

Even Ruby's touch burns hot to the skin. Sam recognises it anywhere, at any time. Their bond has grown so strong, he's even able to tell what she's feeling when they're apart. The more he drinks, the more they begin to resemble the same person in different bodies. 

It scares him, it does, but it also gives him something he's never had. When she finally tells him that he's ready to kill Lilith, something sinks inside Sam's chest. He forces a smile, practices extra hard for the next couple of days, but refuses to meet Ruby's eyes the entire time. 

He supposes it pisses her off, because eventually she's cornering him; grabbing his forearm and demanding that he talks to her about what the hell is causing him to act like a moody prepubescent girl. Sam shrugs, and Ruby lunges out in frustration, but he catches her wrist before her hand can touch his face. She growls something about him being too stubborn, and he ignores it, sealing the distance between their lips in a heated kiss. 

Ruby climbs onto his lap in a matter of seconds, moving at the fast pace they normally do. But Sam takes his time in running his hands across the span of her skin and tracing her collarbones with his lips. He knows it'll probably be the last time he'll get to do so, because once Lilith is gone, there'll be no reason for him to be fraternising with her this way, will there?

They fuck twice. One, with her legs hooked around his waist and her head thrown back against the sheets, obscenities leaving her mouth at an incredible rate. Twice, with her on his lap and his head buried in her chest, leaving little bruises on her neck because he knows they'll be the last marks he'll be able to leave on her. 

They finish with him drinking from her wrist, as always, and the power that surges through him sends jolts down his bones, so deep he can feel it in his marrow. It's a part of him now, isn't it? Sam thinks he might never be fully clean of her blood, even after he's stopped consuming it. 

_-_

_"i love you though you hurt me so,_  
_now i'm going to pack my things and go."_

They're a day away from getting rid of the next big bad after Yellow-Eyes when Sam finds out the truth that Ruby's been using him to set Lucifer free. 

Dean's in hysterics, as always, and Sam's counted at least three 'I told you so's in the past fifteen minutes. He knows it's his fault, for trusting a demon and hoping everything would turn out good without a catch. He knows it's his fault, for getting so hooked on the blood and the power it gave him that he was unable to process the situation clearly. 

He knows it's his fault, he really does, and he's glad to have Dean and Castiel to tell him how they knew that he was going down the wrong path, because it means they'll ensure that he doesn't find his way back to her when he's drunk or half-asleep or suffering from the withdrawals that are sure to come.

"I thought I was going to kill Lilith and get back at that bitch for sending you down to rot, Dean!" Sam explains, eyes wide and heart in his throat as his chest rises and falls quickly in fear and the guilt that seems to be consuming him at a rapid speed. 

Dean shakes his head, looking like he's about to punch something before he's going over to Sam and hugging him tightly. When he pulls away, he holds him firmly by the arms and stares right at him as he speaks. "Listen to me, Sammy. I know what you were trying to do, and I- I appreciate it, I really do, but you... You gotta trust _me_ , you know? Not some black-eyed bitch promising you sunshine and rainbows."

Sam nods, says sorry one more time and then takes two aspirin to knock himself out before he can do something dumb like start crying. He trusted Ruby, but not because she promised him sunshine and rainbows. She promised him power, and she promised him the ability to set things straight, for once. She promised Sam himself. 

_-_

_"touch me baby, tainted love,_

Castiel insists on Sam being kept in the panic room again to get the blood out of his system. 

If he wasn't so weak, Sam would protest and tell him to fuck off, because the blood wouldn't ever leave his system. It hadn't since the first drops of demon blood had entered his body when he was six months old, and it wouldn't even if Sam was on his deathbed. 

But he's already hallucinating, and the visions are worse the second time around. So he allows them to strap him down onto the bed, and when they've shut the door and Sam knows that Dean is no longer watching him, he lets the first of the tears flow. 

-

_"touch me baby, tainted love,_

Sam feels Ruby die. 

Their bond snapped a long time ago, and since Sam left Bobby's panic room, a cold sweat plastered all over him and shaking, but alive, he hadn't felt a thing from her. Not even the greatest joy or the most terrible wrath that she felt prompted any sort of response from him. 

And then there he was, having lunch over his laptop looking up omens across the country when suddenly the most horrible pain shot through his gut, like his stomach was folding in on itself ten times over. He ran to the bathroom and puked his insides out, and that was where Dean found him an hour later, still laying there in a pain-filled daze. 

"How long's it been?" Dean asks, helping Sam up and bringing him out to the main hall so he can get some water into his system before he starts burning up. 

"A-About an hour," Sam's reply is staggered, but he's relieved that he can talk. Before this, it felt like blood was rushing up into his lungs, choking him bit by bit. 

Dean stays quiet after that, just making sure that Sam's vitals are all good and he can walk and move his body properly. It's only after Sam's eaten something and colour is beginning to return to his face that Dean's expression changes to one of faux-sympathy and hard resolution. 

It's a look Sam's seen often when they're working a case and they have to talk to the family and friends of the victims under the pretence of being National Security or aspiring journalists or whatever cover they've undertaken. It's a look that means Dean is going to say he's sorry for something he really couldn't care less about. Sam braces himself for the worst, even though he isn't exactly sure what the worst could be. 

"Cas and the other winged douchebags," Dean starts, looking apprehensive, like he thinks Sam is about to go batshit crazy, "They, uh, caught up to 'Team Free Lucifer'. Cut the story short, Lilith is dead." He doesn't have to continue.

Sam looks up. "Ruby's dead, isn't she?" 

Dean nods. 

-

_"touch me baby, tainted love."_

That chapter of Sam's life ends as abruptly as it began. 

With Ruby and Lilith dead, and Azazel's plans averted, all thanks to Dean and the angels, Sam's life took a turn towards the normal. It was difficult at first, and sometimes he found himself calling Ruby's cellphone just to hear her voicemail. 

But he always hung up before the beep, and after about a month or two, he stops calling. 

_-_


End file.
